Woe and Wonder
by GuileandGall
Summary: A wayward phrase leads Cassie into an admission she hadn't planned on. Harry's calm comfort helps her find some relief, even if she's not prepared to deal with the implications. Posted for MEWC.


**Summary:** A wayward phrase leads Cassie into an admission she hadn't planned on. Harry's calm comfort helps her find some relief, even if she's not prepared to deal with the implications.

 **a/n:** Inspired by a first line prompt: "I'm a disaster." Of course, no surprise here, the prompt has gone missing and I didn't know who sent it in. Posted for MEWC.

 **Woe and Wonder**

"Frankly, I'm a disaster," Cassie said with a chuckle.

Harry huffed a half-hearted laugh and shook his head.

"You don't believe me," she said, wrinkling her nose at him.

His head shook again as a wry smile formed on his lips. "Not even a little."

"If Pol were awake—"

"He'd be proud. Just like most of the people on this station."

Cassie pulled a face and lifted her cup of coffee to her lips. As she sipped, he could tell she was smiling. It lit her eyes in a certain way that he was becoming far too familiar with, far too keen to witness.

"I think you're biased, Doctor."

"Are we really going to go back to that, _Pathfinder_?"

She groaned and her lips quirked at him.

Harry set his own cup down and leaned on the table, draping his hand over her wrist to keep her from hiding behind her mug again. "What is it about that title that gets under your skin?"

Her shoulders hunched upward with the deep breath she took. Then she leaned toward him, her voice low in hopes that only he would hear her admission. "Every time I hear it, I expect to turn around and see my father. Scowling in disapproval most of the time," she added, he voice lowering. "Even though I know it can't happen."

His hand found hers and squeezed it; his thumb traced over her fingers as they curved in his grip.

"I just—" she started then stopped, her eyes dropping to their clasped hands. "These strange peeks into his memories. His logs and notes. It's all …" Her gaze met Harry's again, seemed to study his faces as if somewhere among the hard lines and five o'clock shadow she might find the words she was looking for. Then she looked up and away, blinking a few times to combat the glistening in her vibrant aqua eyes.

"Why don't we get out of here?" he suggested, glancing around out the moderate crowd that milled through the Nexus commons.

She just nodded a few times in quick succession.

Harry didn't let go of her hand at any point. Their footsteps rang around him, breaking the din of casual conversations and chatter. They stood side by side on the tram, managing to go unnoticed by the other riders. Eventually, they arrived at his quarters on the _Hyperion_.

The door barely closed before her arms slid around his waist. He cradled her head against his chest and draped an arm over her shoulders. Beyond trying to offer Cassie a touch of comfort, Harry didn't dare move.

"I hated him," she admitted, her voice muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

"Cassie."

She must have heard the disbelief in his voice because she looked up at him. "I did. I didn't get him. He didn't get me. Or that's what I thought. I thought he spent all that time locked away working on his projects because he didn't want to be around us. Mom could come and go, but I can remember …" Cassie sighed, her embrace on Harry loosening as her fingers traced down his spine.

"I was, like, eight. I wanted to show him the project I had worked all semester on. I thought he'd be proud. I went into his office to leave it for him. And when I set it on the desk, something happened. I don't remember what, but it was loud. I screamed, everyone came running." Cassie slinked out of his arms and paced across the room, her words coming out at a slow but steady pace, almost as if she was forcing herself to keep talking.

"What I do remember though is him throwing my project aside as he tried to figure out what I'd done," she said, hugging herself as she turned away from Harry. A short, humorless laugh shook her shoulders. "All I wanted was to show him that I was a scientist, too. That I wanted to be like him."

As soon as the sob broke free, Harry's arms were around her again. His chest covered her back as she curled over herself.

"Cassie," he said, trying to soothe her.

"I never knew him. And I didn't want to then. But now," she stuttered between grieved bouts of crying. "I just wish I had given him more chances, instead I just shut him out. Even coming here, it wasn't about him. It was about the chance to find my own way in a place where my work _might_ not be overshadowed by him and _his_ reputation. It was a chance to be someone other than Alec Ryder's kid."

Harry did not say anything. What could he say? He didn't have answers or ripe wisdom to share on the subject of fathers. So, he just held her. Stayed right there, listening because that's what she seemed to need in the moment. Or at least that's what he hoped she needed.

"Why did it take him dying for him to open up to me?" She started to turn toward him again. "To show me who he actually was?"

Harry loosened his grip and sought her gaze. "I don't know. Maybe he just didn't know how to show it. Or maybe he just didn't know how to set it right," Harry suggested as his thumb brushed some of the tears from her cheeks.

"Did you know his AI work was meant to try and help my mom?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Yeah. Apparently, he thought SAM could save her," Cassie said with a sad nod.

The idea sparked in his mind, triggering a string of questions. But Harry held them back. She didn't need him detouring her toward a moment of twenty questions. And he hated to see that sorrowful grayness cloud over her bright eyes. It was like looking into the heart of a swirling storm at sea. Worst of all, he knew he couldn't clear it.

"Neither of them told us about it. Even Mom kept it from us, from _me_ ," she said quietly, laying her head back against Harry's chest. Soft sniffles still interrupted her breathing as she leaned on him. "I just don't get it. Why?"

His arms tightened around her as he rested his lips atop her head. "I wish I knew the answers. That I could somehow make it all clear." He straightened when she moved.

Cassie blinked up at him. Her jaw moved like she was going to say something, but nothing came out at first. Then the third time it happened she finally asked, "Do you have any coffee?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I have some left." He rubbed her arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Why don't you sit down and get comfortable and I'll make a pot."

Her fingers grazed his cheeks, the barest hint of encouragement bringing his lips to hers. When the gentle kiss broke, she seemed to melt though his grip. Without a word, she curled up on his sofa and toyed with the controls for the monitor hanging on the wall. The voice that hummed low through the room belonged to the single reporter on the Nexus. Harry could only assume she chose that because processing his reports would distract her mind and draw it away from the thoughts that brought sorrow and tears.

His training told him it was better to talk about it. Get things like that out in the open. But his heart, it told him just to wrap her up in his arms and try to be of comfort. Where a doctor should push, a lover chose to support. He'd be there when she needed to talk about it, he assured himself and his conscience, but he wouldn't force her to dredge it up.

When he turned with two filled mugs in his hand, he smiled when he found her curled up with her head resting on her arm folded beneath it, smiling at him. It wasn't a smile of abject happiness, but of contentment. Clearly, she was still in pain, but she wasn't entirely miserable.

"I guess it's a good thing you take your coffee black," he teased as he handed her a mug.

Her smile widened. "From what I hear, in a few months it won't matter how you take it."

"I've heard the same rumor. The only coffee you'll be able to find is whatever people put in their personal items."

When he sat down, she scooted closer, fitting herself against his side when he draped an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome." He thought about it for a moment, before he leaned forward and set his cup on the coffee table. His finger brushed along the curve of her jaw; the action raised her gaze to his. "Cassie. You know I'm here for you, whenever you need … _anything_ ," he said, knowing that the inflection bent his statement in the direction of a question.

"I do," she said with a soft smile.

When she didn't say more, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. He sighed and reached for the control. "How about we forego the news and find something more distracting?"

"Sounds good."

He skimmed movie titles until she pointed one out. Then they both settled back into the sturdy cushions of the sofa with her head nestled against his shoulder. The action of the film started quickly, but neither really concentrated on it. In a slow moment of the plot, she shifted, looking up at him. The movement brought his focus onto her as well.

"Thank you."

"Of course," he replied, feeling no thanks was necessary for anything that happened. He shifted a little, to better see her face. "Cassie, I love you. If there's anything I can do. Anything you need. Even just to talk. I'll always be here."

She nodded, a crooked smile betraying the wet sparkle in her eyes. "I know. I just … I still appreciate it." Her arms slipped around him, squeezing tight before she draped her legs over his.

Harry pressed his lips to her temple as she snuggled against his chest. It felt good, having her there in his arms; just having a moment with her. Before the film ended, her embrace loosened and her soft, shallow breathing told him she'd fallen asleep in the crook of his shoulder. It sent a warm feeling flooding through his chest—the trust she placed in him. Despite the coffee and the noisy explosions of dramatic battles, Harry soon lost his own fight against slumber. Even so, he held her tight in his arms, holding her close while he had the chance.


End file.
